


Escape Artist

by helens78



Category: Highlander RPF
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-20
Updated: 2007-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-05 20:11:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Val knows a few things about handcuffs.  Paul asks for lessons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape Artist

**Author's Note:**

> **About the HL:TR set:** In real life, Paul Johansson actually has talked about how he felt isolated and lonely while filming HL:TR. It turns out the series was filming right around the time Ken Starr was digging into then-President Clinton's sexual history, and one of the people on the list was... Elizabeth Gracen. So she was extremely nervous about everyone she met, especially new people, including Paul. HL:TR, like the HL series itself, filmed in Canada and in France -- in both cases, fairly far away from Spokane, Washington, where Paul actually hails from. Though this is obviously not how the real PJ dealt with feelings of isolation, the above was partly inspired by this detail.

Nobody lets Paul in on the secret until the scene's finished and in the can. Then he makes a joking comment about trick handcuffs, and the props girl chuckles at him.

"We lucked out with Val, huh?" she asks.

"What do you mean?"

She stops and tosses the handcuffs back at him; he catches them the way he had to, take after take, when Val slipped them off. "I mean they're not trick cuffs. Val can just do that."

"You're kidding me." Paul gets a closer look at the cuffs, and she's right; there's no trick to them. They're just standard cuffs. It's a good thing he didn't fuck around with them the way he'd been tempted to; if nobody'd had a handcuff key, that could have been really embarrassing. "Where'd he learn to do that?"

"I dunno. He's got a lot of weird random talents. I think that's part of why they keep casting him." She grins at him and holds out a hand. "Mind if I grab those back, though? I need to get them filed away."

"Oh, right." Paul hands them back over. "Hey, is he gone yet?"

"From the set or from France?"

"The set, he's got a few more days of filming to go."

"Don't know. I doubt it; he's probably still waiting for the van."

"Thanks."

Paul grins and heads off. _A lot of weird random talents._ It's the kind of thing you hear about a lot of actors, especially ones who are more likely to show up in odd jobs than as leading men, but the only things he'd known about Val coming into this were that Val had a history with the old show, that he could ride a horse and they were going to find an excuse to get that into filming, and that Val was pretty damn good with his stunts. Swordwork, too. Those aren't Paul's scenes, so he isn't going to get a look at them in person, but the handcuffs-- that he'd gotten to see. He just hadn't known what he was looking at.

He finds Val loitering around the van, waiting as the rest of the actors collect there, and he gives him a friendly wave. "Hey."

"Good evening," Val says. He smiles, and it's amazing just how different he looks when he's not being Korda; Paul would never have guessed that this short, unassuming guy was capable of being such a good villain.

"I have to ask-- did you have a turbulent childhood or something?"

Val gives Paul an odd look. "I'm sorry?"

"The handcuffs-- Sandy just told me they weren't trick cuffs."

"Oh--" Val chuckles. "No..."

"So I was wondering where exactly one picks up a talent for breaking out of handcuffs." Paul gives Val his best grin, and he's pleased to get a mischievous look in return.

"Are you planning on getting into trouble sometime soon?" Val asks.

"You never really plan on getting into trouble..."

"But you don't mind planning ways to get out of it." They both end up laughing over that. "I don't suppose you've still got the cuffs around?"

"No, I went ahead and gave them back to Sandy."

"Hmm." Val rubs a hand over his goatee. "Are you busy later?"

"When's later?"

"Anytime after I've had a chance to take a shower and get some food. Are you at the same hotel they've put me up in, or do you have an apartment here?"

"I stuck with the hotel." Paul grins. "Given the choice between cleaning up after myself and making sure someone's there to do it for me..."

"It's a very easy choice," Val says lightly, but the way it comes out makes Paul wonder whether they're still talking about hotel amenities. _You're interesting,_ he thinks. _What are you like when you're not on a set?_ But then Val's talking again, and Paul stops woolgathering so he can listen. "Do you want to stop by my room in a couple of hours? I can give you a lesson or two in Escapology 101."

"Escapology? Is that what they call it?"

"Mm. When they call it anything at all." The rest of the team's finally ready, and they pile into the van, leaving Paul with a sudden question in the forefront of his mind.

_You have handcuffs in your hotel room?_

He's got shotgun and Val's in the back, though, so he can't check Val out again without being obvious about it.

_Weird random talents, huh? Like what else?_

* * *

Paul doesn't manage to get dinner. He's too nervous about meeting up with Val, too intent on what he _wants_ to have happen when he knocks on that door. It's not like everyone in the industry is sex-crazed, and not every invitation is code for "let's get together and fuck", but here and now, he's hoping to get lucky. He makes it as far as Val's door before his palms start sweating. It's one hell of an embarrassing reaction, but hey, it's better than some of the other reactions his body could be having right now. He clears his throat and knocks.

Val's there in a minute, skin a little damp from the shower, dressed in casual wear-- jeans and a sweatshirt, barefoot-- and he's got glasses on. That's a surprise, but not a bad one. "How are you?" Val asks. "Come in."

"I'm good," Paul says. The door clicks shut behind him, and he dries his palms off on his thighs. "How about you?"

"Fine."

"I hope I wasn't early." He can feel the steam emanating from the general direction of the bathroom; Val must have just finished up.

"Not at all. I had a phone call to make, and it held me up some. Did you find time for dinner?"

"No." Paul's palms are still sweating. He digs his hands into his pockets just to give himself something to do with them.

"Well, we can order something up if you like. Have a seat." Val sits down on one end of the couch, picking up a pair of handcuffs from the coffee table. Paul takes the other side of the couch, but he scoots closer when Val holds the cuffs up and opens them.

"Would you rather do first or watch first?" he asks.

Paul holds his hands out. "I'm not the watcher type."

"I can tell. No tattoo." Val brushes his index finger over the inside of Paul's wrist, and there's the other embarrassing reaction he was so afraid of. _Christ_. Sitting like this, though, it shouldn't be too obvious. Just uncomfortable.

He gets even harder when Val locks the cuffs on his wrists, running a fingertip over his skin again to check the fit. "How does that feel?" Val murmurs.

_Like I really hope this is foreplay and not as innocent as it's supposed to be._ "Val--"

Val takes hold of the chain between Paul's wrists and tugs, pulling Paul closer. Paul goes with it, lips parting, eyes closing. He can feel Val's nose brush his own; he can feel the heat when Val's forehead rests against his. Val's so close Paul can feel Val's breath on his lips, and he clenches his hands, realizing just how vulnerable this is. Just how vulnerable it could be.

"I can let you out of those any time you want," Val murmurs. "Just say the word."

"And if I don't?" Paul asks softly. "Then what do you do to me?"

Val kisses him. Just like that, like there's no reason not to get close to Paul. It's one hell of a turnaround from the rest of his experiences on this set; not that he expects to get laid every time he gets a new job, but it'd be nice to have friends here. Liz has never told people to stay away from him, but she's kept her distance, and people tend to follow the established star's lead in this business. Kissing Val is more intimate than anything Paul's felt in months, and he lets it happen, almost afraid he's going to scare Val off if he moves. He barely even breathes until Val pulls back a little; then he blinks his eyes open and licks his lips, trying to come up with something to say. Val's still got that grip on his handcuff chain, and Paul glances down at it, tugging his hands back slightly.

Val doesn't let go. He reaches up with his other hand and slides it to the back of Paul's neck. "I'd like to take you to bed," he says. "Like this."

Paul swallows hard and nods. "Okay," he whispers. _Bed. Like this._ Paul's experience with bondage is limited to a few girlfriends he's had who really liked being tied up; he's never been tied up himself, and he's never gone to bed with a guy who was into that sort of thing. _Well, not that they told you, but it's not like you ever talk to the guys you screw, now, is it?_

Val leads Paul to the bedroom by his cuffs, and it feels awkward, off-balance. It's not the footing-- Paul doesn't stumble-- it's just the situation. It's so fast. This fast, and Val's leaving in a few more days. _Take everything you can get._

So he's eager when Val pushes him onto the bed; he goes with the motion when Val pushes his arms up above his head. It's so weird, Val looking like he knows exactly what to do with a guy in handcuffs-- but this is no time to get judgmental, Paul knows, so he's not going to think about that. He stays still while Val gets his shoes off, grinning down at him. _Yeah, that's more like it._ It's too bad his shirt's still on, they're not going to be able to get it off with the cuffs there, but--

"Stop thinking," Val says lightly, climbing up on the bed and kneeling between Paul's legs. He runs his hands up Paul's legs, ankles to hips, and Paul lifts his hips up, hoping his jeans are coming off next. Val cups Paul's cock in his hand and squeezes, and Paul rocks his hips up harder, twists his fingers into each other as he realizes just how little room his wrists have to move.

The word "please" is out of his mouth before he realizes what he's saying, and Val responds by looking up and grinning.

"Yes?"

Val snaps his fly open and gets the zipper undone. Paul closes his eyes as he struggles for an answer.

"You know, I don't have the damnedest clue?" he whispers. "I just know I'm really fucking turned on, and these cuffs are driving me crazy."

Val grins as he slides his hand into Paul's jeans. Paul sucks in a breath, glad he took a leap of faith and went commando tonight, and God, Val's hand is so warm, warm and everywhere at once. No, screw everywhere, his hand's on Paul's cock now, and nothing else matters, Paul's so turned on he's damn near seeing stars. The cuffs feel heavy on his wrists, which is perfect, somehow; it's just making him hungrier for all of this.

"Here's what I want," Val says. And the same voice that sounds so damned good as a TV-show villain is making Paul think _yes, fuck, whatever you want is fine by me_. "I want to hold you down, and jerk you off, and watch you while you come."

The description doesn't do anything to calm down that _anything you want_ feeling Paul's having. He nods a few times, licks his lips. "Okay," he pants, "okay, yeah, please, that sounds good."

"Good." Val jerks Paul's jeans down around his thighs and straddles him. He puts one hand down on the center of Paul's chest and wraps the other hand around Paul's cock, and Paul shudders underneath him.

Every time he moves, he feels those handcuffs locking him down. They're not cold anymore, but they still feel so goddamned heavy, and they make these little metal clicking sounds when he moves. There's no way in hell Paul could ignore them, not even if he wanted to-- and he doesn't. The different sensations are killing him-- handcuffs, rumpled jeans, pressure against his chest along with Val's fast, steady strokes-- and Paul closes his eyes, bites his lower lip hard to keep from coming immediately. _Jesus_, he thinks, _Jesus fucking Christ, nobody told me this was out there_...

"Are you close?" Val murmurs. He sounds calm, ridiculously calm when Paul's going half out of his mind, and Paul can't do much other than nod. He nods hard several times, all the while trying to hold back-- this is going to be over way too soon no matter what.

And then Val twists his hand just right, and Paul's coming, breath bursting out of him, panting and gasping and jerking underneath Val. Val's got him pinned tight, though, and he doesn't go anywhere-- just twists and struggles and curses like a motherfucker, half-afraid he's going to die from coming so hard. "Fuck, _fuck_, Val, Jesus Christ--"

"Would you let me fuck you?" Val asks, and _finally_ there's something in his voice that makes Paul think Val's getting something out of this, too. Jesus, finally. "Like this, still, hands bound."

"Yes," Paul croaks. "C'mon, _yes_, just fucking do it--"

Val climbs off him and pushes, and Paul rolls with it, arms stretched out in front of him, legs spread as wide as his jeans allow. Val stretches over him to reach for the nightstand drawer-- yeah, Paul was dead-on this whole time, Val must have been wanting this to happen as much as he did-- and without any hesitation, Val's pushing lube-slick fingers into him, opening him up, stretching him out. Paul groans, pushing his face into the pillows. There's that telltale little pause while Val gets the condom on, and then Paul holds his breath while Val climbs onto him and starts pushing in. He bites his lip against an urge to ask Val to take it easy; he's not sure he wants Val to take it easy. He's not sure about that at all.

Val's not easy so much as steady; it's a slow push inside, but it's a smooth thrust that takes him all the way in, one that ends with Val's mouth on the back of Paul's neck and his hips pressed hard against Paul's ass. Paul groans at that, too, groans even more when Val reaches up and takes hold of his wrists. He clenches up, and Val laughs, sounding breathless.

"Can you take it rough?"

"Find out," Paul groans.

Val goes still. And then bites the back of Paul's neck. "Don't tempt me. How rough can you take it?" he asks.

_I want to fucking tempt you_, Paul thinks. "Find out," he repeats, stronger this time.

Val pushes up some, gets a hand on Paul's shoulder-- for balance or connection or just to hold Paul still, it really doesn't matter. He moves out, still more steady than slow, and his first thrust back in is _solid_\-- it makes Paul tilt his head back and groan out loud. The next thrust is harder than that, and with the third, Paul can feel the rhythm and starts moving as best he can with it, pushing back a fraction of an inch when Val goes in deep.

The hand on Paul's shoulder tightens, and Val starts shoving in harder. It's still got that solid, steady feel to it, and Paul's hands tighten into fists as he opens up and takes it. This isn't one of those rough fucks Paul's had where it's quick and selfish and the other guy's gone as soon as the come hits the condom; this is Val being right there with Paul for all of it, fucking him rough because he--

_\--because he gets off on doing it rough_, Paul realizes, and that and the handcuffs add up to something that's getting him hard again way faster than he'd expected. "More," he chokes out. "_Please_."

Val's nails bite into Paul's shoulder. "Much more and you'll ache all tomorrow," he pants. "Want that?"

"Fuck, yeah," Paul says. "Come on, man, _give it to me_\--"

And Val does. Over and over, until Paul's groans get loud enough to make his throat ache. He buries his face in the pillow, wanting to scream, and Val laughs when he does it, fucking him that much harder. Paul's hard again, and he knows he can come if Val just keeps this up long enough, because Jesus fucking hell, he can't remember the last time he was this turned on.

He tilts his head up, and the minute he does Val's got a hand in his hair and is shoving him down again. "When you're there," Val pants, "scream."

That's enough to get Paul there _now_. He doesn't think he's going to scream at first, but as the orgasm streaks through him and Val doesn't let up, as it starts to die down and Val's still going, he realizes the scream isn't just for him. It's for Val, and Val's not going to stop until he gets it.

So Paul screams. He screams through the last of his orgasm, and Val's hips jerk forward as Val lets out a moan himself, a short, blunted sound that ends with a few sharp, fast thrusts in, one following another as Val spends himself, twisting his fingers tight in Paul's hair.

He collapses, panting, but he reaches both hands up to get Paul's cuffs undone. Paul doesn't even get to watch how he does it; one minute he's cuffed and the next his wrists are free.

Val eases out, rolling to the side. Paul doesn't move; he's got no need to, except maybe the wet spot under his stomach. Val strokes a hand over Paul's shoulder and squeezes lightly. "Going to get you some water," he says softly, "and something to clean up with."

Paul turns his head and blinks at Val. "You kicking me out?" he mumbles. _That was fast_, he thinks, frowning.

It's a second or two before Val answers. "No," he says, sounding a little surprised by Paul's question. "No, you're welcome to spend the night if you want."

Paul chuckles. "I don't think I could move even if I wanted to," he admits. "I can wait on cleanup, if you don't mind." There's no good way to ask Val to stretch out again, is there? Paul doesn't have enough brain cells left to think of one, if there is.

But he doesn't need to; Val's already doing it, having ditched the condom and put his glasses on the nightstand. He puts an arm over Paul's shoulders, and Paul exhales, soaking that in. An extra minute's connection shouldn't mean what it does out here, and he just knows he's going to come off needy, but fuck that.

He gets more than a minute; Val ends up settling in, getting comfortable against Paul's side, and that alone would've made this whole night worthwhile. This and the sex and the handcuffs-- Paul lifts his head up suddenly, squinting over at Val.

"Hmm?" Val pulls back far enough to see Paul's expression. "What's the matter?" he asks, moving back further.

"Nothing," Paul says quickly. "I was just thinking... we didn't get around to having you show me how to get out of those cuffs."

Val grins at that. "I suppose not."

"You're here another... three days, four?"

"Three. A little more than three; my flight out is in the morning."

"You want to show me a trick or two besides the handcuffs before you go?"

The look in Val's eyes seems very sharp all of a sudden; the intensity's deep enough it nearly bites.

Paul doesn't back down, though. He keeps his eyes focused on Val's. "I want this," he says softly. "If you've got it to give."

"All right," Val murmurs. "Until I go."

"Until you go," Paul agrees, stretching out on his back and almost grinning at the ache he's got already. "We never did get to dinner."

"Nap a while. I'll order something up while you're asleep."

"Perfect." Paul closes his eyes. "Val?"

"Mm?"

"Thanks."

There's a silence, and it's a struggle to keep his eyes closed through it. Val's obviously thinking _something_. Paul's not sure what, but it's something big.

"You're welcome," Val says at last, and Paul lets out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

_Nap a while_, he thinks. It sounds pretty damned good.

_-end-_


End file.
